Re-Writing History
by ExellentlyEllen
Summary: Slightly alternate season 5. Rory meets a certain blonde in a different way. My take on season 5... rated T for possible language.
1. The Reporter and The Blind Non-Date

**You guys might recognize the dialogue as coming from the show. It is, because they were geniuses and i'm nowhere near as good. But i've toyed with it a little, adding stuff or deleting some. I hope you guys like this, because I might be inclined to continue this (once my elbow stops hurting that is). so please, review!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything about the Gilmore Girls. I wish I did, because we'd be at season 14 by now.**

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><p>Prelude: Thursday, At Yale<p>

"I cannot believe this. After all this time, your mother tells you now?" Rory asks incredulously, a frown on her face. Marty shrugs and looks down at his feet. "My dad looked relieved." Rory stops walking to look at her friend, the frown on her face now even deeper. "He did not." Marty looks up at her, looking extremely uncomfortable. "I heard him say 'whew'."

The duo starts walking away from the coffee-cart when somebody bumps into Marty.

"Oh, sorry." He says, before turning back to Rory to continue their conversation. "No, seriously, you couldn't see me there?" a voice calls after them, making them turn around. Rory opens her mouth, to defend her friend against the very rude person she was now looking at, but gets interrupted by an accented voice.

"Not everyone's staring at you, Colin." The rude guy turns to the guy with the accent, definitely prepared to have a full blown discussion in the middle of the courtyard, when the third guy interrupts their starting quarrel.

"Hey" the blond one says to Marty "I know you. No, wait, wait, don't tell me. I'm seeing a uniform of some sort." He looks at Marty questioningly, clearly wanting an answer. Before Marty can respond, the accented guy speaks up again "Maytag repairman." he says sarcastically. Marty looks even more uncomfortable with this conversation than he did with the one about his parentage, and that's saying something.

"I've bartended for you. For your parties." A glimmer of recognition flickers across the blonde's face. "That's right, you have! You're a talented man." He turns to face Rory, before he says "He makes a kick-ass margarita." Marty lets out a little chuckle at that, because he's seen this guy drunk, and he doubts if at that time the guy could even distinguish a margarita from a cerveza. But whatever. "Thanks" he says anyway, knowing when not to blow up bridges, after all, he made 2000 buck off of him last semester alone.

"It's good to see you again …" the sentence stops short, and Rory sees the guy trying to remember Marty's name, and drawing up a blank. "What's your name?" he asks, not even the slightest bit embarrassed by the fact that he _needs_ to ask the question. "Marty. Uhm, and this is Rory." Marty motions his head towards her, not that the blonde even particularly cares. "Hi" he says, uninterestedly. "So, assuming your services are still for hire this year, your financial situation hasn't changed at all?" Marty's back to looking a little flustered, it's not like he wants everybody on campus to know his financial situation isn't exactly in the green. "Nope." he answers him.

"Good. Okay, I'll give you a call. Where are you living now?" Not that it really matters. "Branford." "Oh excellent. Branford. All right." The blonde says, definitely trying to round out this conversation. After all, the blonde girl on his arm suggests he's got better things to do with his time. "Good running into you." And with that, the foursome turns around and walks away.

Marty turns to Rory, face very apologetic. "I kind of hate those guys." Rory cracks a smile and raises her eyebrow. "Really? I can't see why." It wasn't until she got to her dorm room she realized nobody even mentioned _his_ name.

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><p>Friday, 6.25 PM<p>

_Keys, keys.. where the hell are my keys_. She thought to herself as she ran around the room, lifting up books and sweaters and whatnot. "Mom.. if you were keys, where would you be?" she yelled towards her open door, into the kitchen. She got a snort in return. "Oh, is this like a quiz thing? Where would I be if I were a set of keys?" Lorelai pretended to ponder the question over. "The oven?" Rory popped out of her room and headed towards the end tablet hat stood in the hallway.

"How in the world would my keys have ended up in the oven? They weren't wet, so there was no need to dry them. They are also not edible, so there really is no significant reason they should be in the oven." She shook her head as she opened up all the drawers of the table. "I'm going to be so, so _so_ late! You know they hate it when somebody is late. It's 'bad etiquette' or something." Lorelai smiled. "How about the door?" she yelled towards her daughter.

"The door?" came her response. "what about the door?" "did. You. Leave. Them. On. The. Door?" Lorelai punctuated every word, as if Rory was an idiot. "I didn't open the door myself remember. You so generously opened it for me after I spent 10 minutes kicking it, my hands being full of laundry." Rory grumbled, thinking back a few hours.

She'd come home, pulled all the laundry out of the car, and had no free hands to open up the door. Nor could she ring the bell (if it even worked, she couldn't remember if Luke had gotten around to fix it). So she kicked the door, in the hopes her mother would be gracious enough to open it. She was, it only took her _forever_ to actually do it. And when the door finally opened, she's had to listen to her mother go on and on about having to get up, out from under the warm blanket and away from the TV.

_Isn't it enough that I gave you life? Isn't it enough that I fed you and clothed you? I now also have to get up and open the door for you? What are you going to do for mommy to pay her back for all that service I provided?_

Rory had expertly ignored her mother, and stomped into her room to sort her laundry.

She shook her head, getting rid of the memory, and went back to searching for her keys. Deciding to try outside, she might have dropped them when she was hauling her bags into the house, she opened up the door and bumped straight into Luke. Who was holding her keys. "Oh Luke! You're a lifesaver. I've been looking for those for _hours_. Slightly overstating the time, but then again, she was a Gilmore and if nothing else, they do have a penchant for overreacting. Instead of dropping the keys in her outstretched hand, Luke held them up a little higher. "You're not even going to ask me how I got a hold of your keys?" he looked a little upset. Rory tilted her head to the side, trying to find out exactly _why_ Luke would be upset. "I was just headed outside, to see if I had dropped them there when I was bringing my laundry in." she said tentatively. "To see if you'd dropped them." He said through clenched jaws.

"Hey, what's all this noise about?" Lorelai asked, walking from the kitchen towards the door, coffee cup ever present in her hands. "You two are really something you know that?" Luke asked, getting even more agitated. "No regards for your own health, drinking coffee like it's air and all the junk food you keep eating. And no regards for your own safety. Leaving your doors unlocked and windows open. I don't care we live in a small town, that stuff is _dangerous_ Lorelai." Luke was ranting. And when Luke was ranting, it was best to keep still and let him finish. This was a lesson long learned by both Gilmore Girls. They secretly enjoyed finding ways to _make_ him go off on a rant. On occasion, they even bet on how long it would last before he exploded, or how long the rant was going to last. Once, they even made a bet about how many times he would fling his hands in the air while ranting. Watching Luke when he was like that, was even better than watching '_Real housewives'_. Infinitely more entertaining.

"Whoa, Luke. Slow down. Where is this coming from all of a sudden?" Lorelai asked, when it became clear that Luke was done yelling. "I distinctly remember locking the door after you left last night, thanks for fixing the doorbell by the way, so what exactly is the problem?" Luke raised his arms in the air again, dangling Rory's keys. "The _problem_ Lorelai, is that I just walked up to the house and saw Rory's car door open, keys still in the ignition. It could have been _stolen_. You really should be more careful Rory, this may be Stars Hollow, but I doubt the people in New Haven are as… " He didn't quite know how to finish that sentence. He couldn't say _trustworthy_ because with all of the gossip flying around this town. But the Hollow was a small town, and everybody knew everybody, so crime wasn't really an issue. "I doubt your car would still be standing there if you did this anywhere else." He finished instead.

Rory slapped her hand against her forehead. "Oh right. I was hauling my bags out of my car, but couldn't carry them and my keys, so I left them there. I was going to come straight back to get them, but mom took _forever_ to open the damn door. I forgot." Luke turned his head to look at her. "You forgot?" he asked, disbelief in his voice. "Yes, I forgot. I'm busy , so things get forgotten. And now I'm also late." She turned towards her mother. "This," she motioned between the three of them, standing in the hallway, "is _your_ fault. Which means, my being late is _also_ your fault. So, if grandma asks, I'm totally going to blame this on you." She held her hands out for her keys, and Luke reluctantly dropped them in. "Bye!" Rory yelled over her shoulder as she ran out the door. She heard Luke call back "Don't forget your keys this time!" It made her smile. He was the closest thing she had to a _real_ dad, because lord knows Christopher didn't fit that particular bill. Chris, while she loved him very much, was flakey at best. Not at all dependable. But Luke? He had even come to her caterpillar's funeral, thank you very much. He'd made her mash potatoes and chicken soup when she was sick. And last year, he'd hauled a matrass from Yale, to Yale, from Yale… . And he was worried about her. Rory just hoped he and her mom would really make it work. It would be nice if he would become her 'dad' officially. But she wasn't thinking about that, she really wasn't.

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><p>Friday 7.10 PM<p>

_Dear Rory,_

_Our cook decided it was time the kitchen got a remodel, and consequently lit it on fire. I made a reservation at a restaurant in town for dinner._

_See you soon,_

_Grandma._

"The note was taped to the door. _Taped _to the _door_." Rory was sitting in her car, talking to her mother on the phone. "Why didn't she call? Cancel? I mean, have you ever know Grandma _tape_ something to a _door?_" Lorelai was trying to contain her giggles, because that was indeed strange behavior coming from her mother. "She probably tried calling, but you don't answer when you drive, remember? And since you were already on your way there, a note might have seemed acceptable. And she didn't cancel because this is Friday Night Dinner. And there is no cancelling, unless you are dying." Rory frowned. "If there is no cancelling Dinner, why aren't you here?" she asked, suspicion in her tone. "Well, see mommy just opened up this new business and it being something touristy, she has to occasionally miss dinner in order to _work_. Seeing as this is an excuse frequently used by my father, I assumed it would also be valid for me. And surprisingly, my mother agreed. So, now you go in, like the good girl you are, and remember, use the utensils from the outside in."

Rory sighed and opened up the door to the restaurant. It looked fancy. She looked down at her outfit and was suddenly glad her grandmother demanded she dress up for Friday Night Dinner. This would have been embarrassing if she'd been there in jeans and a ratty t-shirt. "The table for Gilmore please?" she asked the hostess, while taking off her coat. The hostess led her through the restaurant towards a darker corner, to a table for two, which already had an occupant. Who was definitely not her grandmother. She rounded the table to face him. "You!" she hissed. "What the hell are you doing here?" she narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms in front of her chest. "Whoa there, be careful. I've heard lightning inside is very dangerous. You wouldn't want to get anybody hurt now would you." He laughed at her. He actually laughed at her. Her scowl deepened. "I get the feeling you don't like me. You don't know me, but you don't like me." He looked up at Rory, who was still standing over him, arms crossed, looking less than happy.

"I know you." She grumbled, finally dropping down in the chair opposite of his. "You do?" the guy asked surprised. He was pretty sure he'd remember seeing _her_ before. Specially with that attitude. There weren't a lot of girls who gave him _that kind_ of attitude. "We met yesterday. With Marty." The confused look on his face made it pretty clear he didn't remember Marty. "Marty?" he asked anyway.

Rory sighed an annoyed sigh. "Marty, my friend Marty. He bartended for you." He thought for a minute, and vaguely remembers a conversation in the quad about bartending and margaritas. "Yes, Marty. I'm sorry. It slipped my mind. Of course I met you yesterday, with Marty. Nice to see you again…" Rory threw him another murderous look. "Rory! How is it possible you are here at _my_ dinner table and you don't even know my name!"

"Nice to see you again Rory. You're looking well, angry works for you." He said, as if she didn't just ask him a question. "But, to be fair, I was supposed to meet a girl named _Lorelai_ here tonight, so you might see where I got a little confused."

Rory threw her hands up in exasperation. "I'm not angry. I'm irritated. And my name _is _Lorelai. I just go by Rory." He filed that away is his mind, trying to make sure not to forget again. "You're irritated? By me?" he asked her. "Yes" she clipped back, not willing to waist more words on him at that moment. "Because I forgot for a moment who you were?" Rory had to genuinely fight the urge to kick him under the table. "No, because you speak to people as if they are below you. And because I was not supposed to meet _you_ here. Unless you are wearing a disguise and are secretly my grandmother."

"I hate to tell you this, but we've been bamboozled, probably by your grandmother and my mother. And, wait a second, what people?" He tried to think back to the conversation yesterday, but it was a little bit blurry. Whiskey blurry.

"Marty" came Rory's short and hissed answer. "Ah.. your friend Marty?" This time, she didn't restrain herself and kicked him under the table. "Yes, my friend Marty. You talked to him like he was dirt, and that's one of the reasons I'm looking at you like this." The guy was still rubbing his shin from where she'd kicked him. "I'm sorry. What did I say that was so bad that I deserve that look and that kick? I said hello and I think I said he made a kick-ass margarita."

Rory shook her head. "It's not what you said. It's _how_ you said it." He looked confused. "How'd I say it?" Rory had to think for a second, finding a good way to describe the arrogant and elitist way he'd sounded while talking to Marty. "Like Judi Dench." Ha, take that you stupid-face. Good thing she didn't say that part out loud, because that even sounded lame in her own head.

He put his hand over his heart, like she'd wounded him. "Ouch." JudiDench he thought to himself. That's just harsh_._ "Just because somebody doesn't have money or a fancy family doesn't mean they're inferior to you." She was practically yelling now, and drawing some unwanted attention from other patrons. The waitress kept looking their way, trying to find a moment of quiet so she could take their order. It didn't look like it was happening soon though. And he was getting a little hungry.

"I agree." He told her, maybe agreeing with her would speed this thing up and they could either start eating, or he could just leave. Preferably the latter. But she was on a roll, it seemed. "And just because somebody is a bartender at a party for you and your friends, that doesn't mean that you can talk to them like a servant." She slapped her hand on the table for emphasis and made a motion to stand. "Well…" he said, not really wanting to bend to her reasoning.

"What!?" she leaned back in her chair, looking at him like he'd just said that he assassinated Kennedy. "I hired him. I paid him. He served. That's what a servant does." This was not really the way this night was supposed to go. He was going to have a nice dinner with a girl, because his Porsche hung in the balance. He was going to be nice and polite and then they would each go their separate ways and he'd pacified his mother for at least another 2 months. He was not, however, supposed to get into an argument with her. And he most definitely didn't intend to enjoy it so much. Weird twists, this night.

"Are you serious?" she incredulously asked. He leaned his elbows on the table, clearly getting into it. "For the sake of argument." Rory huffed. "He was doing a job." They stared at each other a second. "A job he took willingly." She snorted. "_Some people_ have to work." He ran his hand through his hair. She wasn't looking. No really, she wasn't. She wasn't somewhat attracted to the rude, ignorant, snobby douche bag (much better than 'stupid face'). And she didn't sort of enjoy herself with the back-and-forth. Nope. Not. A. Chance.

"And I bet if you ask him he'll tell you he made excellent tips that night. Because my friends… they tend to enjoy their re-fills." She crossed her legs and huffed. Not that he noticed her legs. He didn't. He didn't notice that she wasn't wearing those nylon things. He imagine how they would feel, all soft and silky. "Not the point." She said, as if that was an actual argument. "To a bartender, tips are very much the point." he countered.

She sat up a little straighter again, her legs disappearing under the table. "Just because you pay somebody, it doesn't mean that you can speak to them as if they're beneath you." He cocked his head to the side a little, and gave her a once over. There were definitely no shivers running across her skin. Not at all.

"Actually, the fact that this is a free country means I can speak to anyone in any manner which I choose." He saw her gearing up to rip him a new one at that statement, so he rushed to finish. "However, the rules of a civilized society may frown upon a certain obvious show of snobbery, so if that's your argument…" He wasn't as dumb as he seemed yesterday, Rory thought. Just arrogant, and probably lazy, bumming off of daddy's money. "I don't have an argument." She said, her tone very definite.

He wondered if it would be in his best interest to poke the proverbial bear (because she was the size of a field mouse) but he couldn't help himself. He was actually enjoying this. "I can give you a moment to formulate one, if you want to continue." Rory bucked at that. She was in the damn debate team at Chilton. She did not 'need a moment' to form arguments. She was just… not in the mood. And busy. "I don't have time for this. This was supposed to be a dinner with my grandmother. I've got studying to do."

He thought about that for a second, but when she made a second attempt to get up, he stopped her with his words. "You concede." Well, I have never. Rory did not concede. That debate team thing had been with Paris, so she _never_ lost. Or conceded. That's not the way Rory Gilmore rolled. "I don't like it when people hurt my friends." She hissed in his direction. "And you react when goaded." He filed that away with the mention of her name, into a little corner of his brain, he now referred to as the 'Rory corner'. "I am _not_ goaded. I am so far from goaded. Get out your compass, and I will show you how _far_ from goaded I am."

He snorted. A compass? Really? "I think we've got a serious debater in our midst." Rory was just about to answer, when her phone rang.

"Hello, Rory Gilmore speaking."

"Loinfruit, why so formal. Did you not screen check for mommy? You know I've taught you better than that. What if it was Paris calling? Or your grandmother. Granted, that would be weird, since you're sitting at the same table, but still."

"Mom! I'm not at dinner with Grandma. She tricked me, so I guess now we know why she was so okay about you not coming for dinner."

"She did what? Trick you how? Did she try to sell you for some camels again? Because I've told her a billion times already, camels just don't have that good a table manners."

"Well, I got to the restaurant, and it wasn't Grandma waiting for me. She set me up."

"Oh sweets. Do you want me to 'pop' her? Make her 'sleep with the fishes'. I'll take the gun but leave the cannoli."

"MOOM! This is not funny. And you need to stop re-watching 'The Godfather'. Please, for me?"

"Fine. But it is a little funny. This is what your Grandma does. She tricks people into doing things she wants, because she things she knows what's best for everybody. You don't have to take that lying down. Just walk out, if you don't want to be there. Do you want mommy to give you an excuse to leave?"

"Yes!"

"Ohh, whiney voice. Is it really that bad? Okay, let me see… how about you tell him – it is a _him_ right? – I need you at the Inn, because… the horses escaped? Oh no wait, the computer-thingy did something, and I need you to come and fix it."

"Fine, mom. I'll be there in 30 minutes."

Rory hung up and looked at her 'dinnerpartner'. "I have to go. My mom needs my help with something." Part of her was sorry to leave. But because of him. Of course not because of him. About the food she didn't get. She was sorry about the food. She'd just have to stop at Luke's on the way home.

"Tell Marty I said hi, and I promise to remember you instantly next time." She didn't respond but just kept looking at him. "Now tell me this wasn't fun?" Still no response. But as she turned around and left, he told her "Master and commander." She turned back to him, confused. "The movie?" He shook his head. "No, that's what I want you to call me from now on." He gives her the brightest most shit-eating grin she's ever seen.

As she walks out of the restaurant, she sort of feels bad for the waitress and the owners. They'd sat there for about 45 minutes and didn't even order any drinks. They were going to be missing some revenue because of that. She should have left some money.

On the drive home, she realizes she _still_ doesn't know his name.

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><p>Friday 8.15 PM<p>

Instead of heading straight home, she passed by her grandparent's house. After she rang the doorbell for about 5 times, her grandmother finally opened the door. "Good heavens Rory, where's the fire? And what are you doing here, you're supposed to be at dinner with…" Rory interrupted her grandmother, quite rudely, but she didn't care at that moment. "Yes Grandma, I know where I'm _supposed_ to be. What were you thinking, making me walk into a date without telling me. First of all, I don't need my _grandmother_ setting up dates for me! I'm 19 years old, I think that makes me old enough to choose my own dates. Secondly, I'm not coming to next Friday's dinner. You forfeited next week for this stunt. Good evening!" Rory turned around and left, leaving her grandmother speechless, standing in the opened door.

When she arrived home, she found her mother surrounded by 5 kinds of take-out. "I assumed you didn't eat, at that fancy date you went on. So I ordered us 'a heart-attack at 40'." Rory looked questioningly at her mother. "Luke's words, not mine. Who cares about 40, when you can eat all this deliciousness _now_."

"You are a goddess!" Rory said, while throwing her coat at the coatrack, not really caring if it landed correctly, just happy that she was about to get fed.

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><p>Monday 3.10 PM<p>

Rory was just in the middle of pitching stories for her first real article, when he walked in. Oh god. Why him, why here?! She thought to herself. Out of all the rooms, in all of Yale, he has to walk into this one. It seemed however, that she wasn't the only one thinking that.

"Oh no." Doyle interrupted her when he spotted Douche-Bag enter. Rory still didn't know his real name, but 'Douche-Bag' seemed appropriate. "What?" she asked, because while she had every reason to dislike his presence in the news room, she didn't quite get why this would be a problem to Doyle.

"He's back" Doyle said, a little drop of sweat slowly making its way down his temple. The guy spotted Doyle and leisurely made his way over towards the Editor. "Doyle, my friend." He said, while taking Doyle's hand to shake, "You're looking very, very well. How've ya been?" Doyle froze up a little, and it wasn't until the other guy dropped his hand he found the words to answer. "I've been great, Logan. Great to have you back." _Oh, so that's his name_ Rory thought.

And if _Logan_ noticed the way Doyle's voice shook a little, he didn't comment on it. "Yeah well, I stayed away as long as I could, but the Yale Daily News called to me." Doyle nodded. "Oh sure. So, how's everything? How's the family?" he asked, seemingly trying to make small talk.

"Everything's fine. The family's the family…" he looked around the newsroom for a second, "ah my desk. Beautiful." He went to sit down, immediately putting his feet on the desk. Rory silently huffed. _That is no way to act in a newsroom. _"Uhm, you know Logan, I didn't know exactly when you were coming back, and I gave out the beats." Doyle looked a little scared, as if he was expecting to get crucified just because he hadn't saved a beat for Logan.

"That's fine Doyle. I'll take whatever you've got left." He said, shrugging and snuggling more comfortably in the chair. Doyle cleared his throat. "Actually,… there's non left." The Editor looked like he was waiting for the bomb to drop, but it never came. "Perfect. Just the one I wanted. Relax Doyle. I'm just here for the pretty picture in my father's head. I'm not going to be any trouble at all." That statement made Doyle sputter, and Rory snort. _Not going to be any trouble? That guy had trouble written all over him_.

"Oh Logan, Please. You, trouble? Stop. We're just glad to have you here." Logan narrowed his eyes at Doyle. He really hated it when people sucked up to him in order to get to his father. That, he could _really_ do without. "Careful, boy, " he said, the lightness gone from his voice for a second "you might hurt yourself kid. Better get back to work, right boss." At that moment he looked across the room and saw Rory sitting at her desk. "Rory, nice to see you." He said to her with a little nod of his head.

Doyle stood there for a second, looking back and forth between Logan and Rory, before stalking over to her desk. "You know Logan? How do you know Logan?" he whispered frantically. Probably worried, thinking he might have said something bad about Logan that might get back to him. Or his _father_. "No, I don't." she said. After all, a 5 second conversation at the quad and a 45 minute argument, does not an acquaintance make. "I met him. A friend introduced us." Best to leave the part about the blind date out, before Doyle suffered a stroke or something.

"So you're not friends?" he asked hopefully. "No, definitely not friends." She saw Doyle visibly relaxing. And the next thing Rory knew, she was introduced to 'work-place gossip'. "That guy's a real piece of work. He took last year off with a bunch of his friends. He was going to said Daddy's yacht around…." He paused for dramatic effect, "'till he sank it."

Rory's eyebrows shot up. "He sunk his father's yacht?" She was wondering if she should amend her view of him back to being a dumb-ass. "Right off of Fiji. They spent 6 months of gallivanting and partying and God knows what in there 'till Daddy sent one of his planes to bring him back." Rory looked a little disgusted. _Rich and entitled, that sums it up I guess_. "I'm guessing his father's rich?"

Doyle looked at her like she'd grown two heads. "His father's Mitchum Huntzberger." he told her, in a tone that suggested that she was _supposed_ to have known that. "Mitchum Huntzberger? The newspaper guy?" At that, Doyle raised his eyebrows, because Lord, she did not just refer to Mitchum Huntzberger as _that newspaper guy_. "The newspaper magnet. The man owns at least twelve different papers. I've spent two years kissing Logan's butt." He shivered at the thought of the past years. "Don't you mean ass?" Rory quipped, trying to get Doyle out of his funk.

"Whatever" he said without looking at her. "Guess it's time to pucker up again. Man , I hate those kind of guys." Rory wasn't totally following anymore, her mind back to her stories. She absentmindedly asked "What kind of guys?"

"Those privileged, white males." Rory's head shot up again. "Doyle… You're a privileged white male." Doyle looked at her with murderous intent. "Well! He's way more privileged. And way more whiter. Why am I talking to you?" he turns to the next desk over, "Meg, why am I talking to Gilmore?"

Before Rory could argue about her stories, Doyle had already walked away. She glanced at Logan, who was now wearing an old-press style fedora. When he caught her looking, he smiled wide and picked up his phone. "Hello? City desk? Smitty here, take this down. I got a hot scoop on a tall blonde and I gotta put it to bed on the double!" He hangs up the phone and winks at Rory, before putting the hat over his eyes to take a nap.

* * *

><p>Wednesday 10.25 AM<p>

Rory's piracy article was a failure. It didn't 'have it'. But her new story, that was something entirely different. If she could get Logan to talk to her about it. It was a long shot, but if she remembered the movie 'the Skulls' correctly (and she did, because her mother and she had watched it over a million times, Joshua Jackson is _really _nice to look at.) the kind of clubs she was going to write about, they took _legacy_ very seriously.

And the article she'd found stating that Elias Huntzberger was in the group, well, she couldn't imagine his grandson not being in it. Probably running the joint. She already had some stuff about the gorilla masks and the formal wear. She had their catchphrase, which was pretty cool, even if she loath to admit it. 'In Omnia Paratus.' It felt like the kind of thing a secret society would say. And it flowed really well. And if Logan didn't want to talk, maybe she'd follow him around a bit. She wondered if she should buy herself a light brown trench coat and a hat. Following.. no that sounded to stalkerish… _shadowing_ (much better) somebody was always way cooler in a trench coat.

Right at that time, her target walked by, surrounded by his goons. "Hey, Huntzberger!" she yelled. "Hey, Gilmore! I see somebody finally learned _my _name. Not that I'm offended by the lack of etiquette shown by you, but still. You waiting for me?" he asked, that smirk firmly in place on his face. "Could be" Rory answered coyly. "Wow. I'm flattered." He stopped walking and turned towards her. "Your prerogative." He chuckled. "You here on business or pleasure?"

Rory cocked her head to the side a littleand snorted. "I just thought maybe I'd give you a chance to respond to my article.?" Now it was Logan's turn to cock his head. "What article?" he asked, with only a slight hint of interest that bled form his tone. "The one I'm writing about the life and death brigade." Rory stated matter of factly. _Ha, take that._ Logan shook his head. "I don't really know what you are talking about."

Evasive maneuvers? Check. _But two can play that game, buddy._ "You don't? Huh, I thought you would. It's a club. One of these super-secret, super-exclusive clubs here at Yale. Membership spans a thousand centuries, secret handshakes and secret sayings. And a lot of running around in circles. In your underwear, that kind of thing." None of the things Rory said seemed to phase Logan even the slightest. He just shrugged and said, "Sounds pretty secret." in a very sarcastic tone.

"Yeah, anyhow. I'm sort of doing an expose on this on particular club and I figured, since you're in it, maybe you'd like to have your point of view included." Still no visible reaction from Logan. _Boy, he's good_ Rory thought. "I'm in it." Logan stated, like it didn't really matter if he confirmed or not. "Well, aren't you?" she asked him, a slight frown beginning to form.

"Well, Ace. If I were to confirm that statement, it would pretty much negate the 'secret' part of 'secret club' right? So, I don't really know where you thought this line of questioning was going. Also, While I've certainly did things dressed only in my underwear, I must say, I've yet to run around in circles whiles only wearing that. At least, as far as I'm aware. Maybe I should check with Colin or Finn. I'll get back to you on that one." That smirk was in place again, like he enjoyed messing with her. Truthfully, he kind of did.

"Well, okay. It would have been nice if you were, but I've got plenty of stuff without your statement. I'm sorry to have bothered you." As she started to walk away, he said "You have plenty without me, huh?" She turned back around. "Yeah. I've got the formal wear, the girl in the gorilla mask. In Omnia paratus – which is a very fancy catchphrase – the black SUV. And about a dozen other little things. An interview with a member would have been great, but I don't really need it." She shrugged.

"Great." He said. "Yep. Plus, I'm completely onto your routine now." Logan grinned at that. "Wow, look at that. My very own stalker. I've always wanted one of those." Rory shook her head. "No, not a stalker. Think of me as your shadow. I figure I'll just track you and you'll lead me to your den of debauchery. It's just a matter of time. Granted, it would have been easier if you'd just talked to me now, but the other way works as well. "

"The other way…" he said to her, in a definite voice. "Yes." She confirmed. "You tracking me." He asked, amusement clear in his voice. "Yes." Rory confirmed again. "Following my every move?" He was starting to enjoy this even more. Bantering over not-dinner, back and forth in front of the gate to Berkley. It was fun, exciting, exhilarating even. An LDB event in and of its own, but without the copious amounts of alcohol. "Yeah." Rory nodded. _Is he really that dense?_ She wondered. He was quiet for a second, before he said "I pick that way." Rory's jaw dropped. "Okay, but…" he interrupted her. "We can start right now, if you want. I'm heading back to my room. I can keep the window open, in case you feel the need to sneak in and track me from the inside." He smiled again. "Thanks for the info." Rory grumbled while hiking her bag higher up her shoulder.

"Absolutely." He turned to walk away. "And hey, good luck with that article. Sound like one hell of a scoop." Rory stared at him for a second. Then she remembered him calling her 'Ace'. "Hey!" she yelled after him. "What's that 'Ace' thing all about?" He didn't answer her, but she could hear him laughing.

* * *

><p>Thursday 3.00 PM<p>

Rory's sitting at her desk in the news room when he walks in the next day. She sees him sitting down at his computer and type something. The 'ding' of her computer startles her a little, and when she looks at her screen she sees a new instant message.

L: Hey Ace, I've got a proposition for you.

Rory sighs, but replays anyway. _This better be good_.

R: Shoot.

L: I'll help you with your article. Get you the inside scoop. Just agree to a few contitions.

R: What conditions?

L: The first condition is that you have to agree before you know the conditions.

Rory stares at the cursor for a second, watching it blink in and out and back in.

L: what do you say Ace? You in or out?

She only has to think about it for a spit second, before typing "I'm in." When she looks up, Logan is nowhere to be seen.

* * *

><p><strong>So? What'd you guys think?<br>**


	2. You jump, I jump, Jack

**Please, if you like it, let me know. You're comments and reviews keep me going.!**

* * *

><p>Thursday 6.45 PM<p>

Rory's been sitting in her dorm room staring at the white envelope she found outside her window. _"Be in your vestibule at four tomorrow. Blindfolded. The LDB."_ She was so focused on the invite and the blindfold, she wasn't even upset by the fact that Dean cancelled their date, _again._ In all honesty, her relationship with Dean wasn't what she had imagined it would be. It wasn't like it was before. When his family didn't hate her, and she wasn't a home-wrecker. But she was the reason his marriage had failed, so she couldn't just _end_ it, right? It would get better, she thought. After all this was _Dean_. _Her_ Dean, the first boy she'd ever kissed. The first guy she'd slept with.

She picked up her phone and speed-dialed 1. After 3 rings, she heard a familiar voice answer.

"Lorelai Gilmore, goddess among men here. Speak, and I will decide if I deem you worthy to replay."

"Oh god mom. Please tell me you don't answer like that when Grandma calls."

"Ah, daughter of mine, you are worthy of my time. And that should have been 'oh god_dess_. We woman should stick together in this crazy man-ruled world. Solidarity sister!"

Rory rolled her eyes at her mother's antics, and proceeded to ignore it completely. "So, I've got a question. What is one supposed to wear while blindfoldedly attending an event thrown by a secret society? Casual? Semi-casual? Full on formal? I'm drawing a blank here."

"What kind of event?"

"I dunno."

"Well, where is it being held?"

"I dunno. Mom, what part of 'blindfolded' and 'secret society' don't you understand? If I knew where I was going, then the blindfold would obviously be obsolete."

"Oh, obsolete. That's a fancy word, did they teach you that at your fancy college, or did you get yourself one of those word-a-day calendars?"

"Mom please, focus. And besides, I've know the word 'obsolete' since I was 6."

"Okay. What color is the blindfold?"

"Oh god. Why is that relevant? And it's black."

"It's important _Rory_ because I couldn't very well suggest your green turtleneck if your blindfold was _blue_ now could I. So, black blindfold makes things much easier. I'm thinking your black jeans and that blue-grey sweater with the high collar. And your black sneakers. That should keep you warm enough for something outdoorsy, it's not too casual but not too fancy."

"Thank you. That just might be perfect."

"So.. who's taking you on this wild and magical journey, anyway?"

"Well.. do you remember last week, when Grandma set me up with that guy from school?"

"How could I not. You used me as an excuse to leave, went to yell at Grandma and then proceeded to eat your weight in egg-rolls. And, because of you, I now have to go to Dinner alone tomorrow. So, I expect you to thoroughly enjoy your free Friday, and report to me afterwards. I live for vicarious excitement."

"Sure mom, no problem. Don't know when that will be though, I've got no timetable on this thing."

"Well then, I'll wait until Monday at least before I alert the cops and send out an Amber alert."

"You do know those are only for minors, right? And that I'm 19?"

"To mommy you'll always be 3, sweets. Have fun!"

Yeah right. Fun. _How in the world am I supposed to have fun, if I can't prepare for it_, she thought. She took out the outfit her mom had put together. Rory felt a little envious of her mother for a second. She was the master at styling (except for that time she went to Chilton in a pair of hot pants and a tie-dye t-shirt) and always came up with the best possible combo's. The ways of Lorelai Gilmore sometimes surprised Rory, but she wouldn't trade her mother for all the gold in the world.

She picks up the book she left on her desk, and went over to her bed to crawl in. Before she started reading, she tried to call Dean again, to no avail. Deciding not to let it get to her, the whole Dean situation, she opens her book, and let herself be immersed in the realm of fiction. At least for a little while.

* * *

><p>Friday 3.55 PM<p>

She felt ridiculous, standing in the middle of the _vestibule_ like that. She checked her watch again, 3.58 PM, time to put on the blindfold. _What I wouldn't do for a good story_, she thought, while tying the cloth behind her head. She'd only just dropped her arms, when she heard his voice. "Hey Ace", he said while waving his hand in front of her face. Satisfied she didn't see anything, he continued. "You ready?" She tried to pinpoint where his voice came from, but couldn't quite figure it out. 'Well…" Before she could continue to talk, he'd pulled her along and into a car. "Hit it." He said as soon as the door slammed shut. "Aah! Not so loud!" a familiar voice shouted. By process of elimination, she concluded the accent must belong to Finn. "You are very auditorily sensitive today." a female voice said, amusement clear in her tone. This surprised Rory. Not the amusement, because while she'd only seen Logan's friends a couple of times, the Australian guy did seem to bring the comic relief. But she couldn't remember if she'd ever seen the _same_ girl with them more than once. She made a mental note to question it later "Oh, and your voice certainly helps with that." Finn replayed snidely.

Deciding to ignore the two in the front, Colin turned to Logan. "Is the blindfold secure?" Logan waved his hand in front of her face again, and again got no response from Rory. "Secure and in place" he told Colin. "Good, because our anonymity is crucial Logan. Crucial." He put special emphasis on the last word, just as Finn let out a massive groan. Rory shifted a little in her seat. "What's wrong with Finn?" she asked Logan. Before he could answer, Colin punched him in the arm. "Great job with the blindfold, Logan."

Rory had to suppress an eye-roll, it wouldn't be effective anyway, with the blindfold on. "I recognized your voices, _Colin_." She said. "Can we remove the blindfold now?" she asked at the same time as Finn said, "could everyone keep it down, please?"

She felt Logan's arm come around her shoulder, and whisper in her ear, "Sorry Ace, we're also hiding our destination." Apparently his whisper wasn't really quiet at all, because Finn answered to it. "That destination is also the reason we had to leave at this ungodly hour." Rory tried to raise an eyebrow, which was hindered by the blindfold. "It's 4 in the afternoon."

"He's got this thing about the sun." Logan said to her. "Yeah, it's too bright!" Finn added, rather loudly, for a guy who just asked everybody to be more quiet. "Ah. So, how come you're not wearing your gorilla masks?"

That comment made Colin explode again. "She can see." Like that would have been the end of the world. Her sense of direction was so bad, it took her 3 weeks to find the correct way back to her dorm room her freshman year. "I can tell because your voices aren't muffled." She said, like it was the most normal thing in the world. And truth be told, it kind off was.

"She's sharp." the female voice sounded again. "Who's the girl?" Her question was answered with a fit of giggles. "I've been told we've met. I have no memory of this what so ever." And again with the giggles. "Ah, Gorilla Girl." That got even more snickers, coming from the guys in the car. "Oh well, isn't that a pretty nickname."

Logan tapped her shoulder, and she leaned back in the seat, her head slightly turned in his general direction. She could feel his leg press up against her, and she wasn't really all that comfortable with the way her stomach was flipping. She wasn't attracted to the guy, really. She had a Dean. And she loved him, right? Even though things weren't great at the moment, she'd always loved Dean. _I don't get butterflies in my stomach with Dean anymore though_, she noted to herself.

"By the way Ace, this thing's overnight." _God, she smells good_ he thought. And he shouldn't be thinking it. Because she was just some girl. A bookworm, the first in class, the last to leave. Totally not his type, at all. So what was it about _her_ that got him so fascinated?

He was shook out of his musings, by her voice. "Overnight?" she said, sounding a little panicked. She didn't bring anything for an overnight stay. No clean underwear, no pajama's , no toothbrush. "Didn't I mention that before? I could have sworn I mentioned that before." He said, sounding a little too pleased with himself. "No, I guess it must have slipped your mind. I mean, it's not like we see each other _every day_ at the newsroom."

If her tone was a little sarcastic, he didn't comment on it. "That doesn't screw up anything for you, does it?" he asked. She was the sort of girl who planned _everything_, and this outing was so far out of her control. It must eat her up inside. He felt a little bad for that, maybe. He didn't want to make her to uncomfortable. On the other hand, he was itching to find out if she would be equally as on-her-toes if she was forced into a completely foreign situation.

She wasn't going to let him get to her though, because her answer came quickly. "No." The answer was short and didn't offer him any information. "No?" he questioned, disbelief clearly in his voice. "Not even dinner?" She shook her head. "Nope." She popped her 'p' for emphasis. And she ignored the jib about dinner, it wasn't worth it. He didn't need to know that she'd yelled at her grandmother because of their stupid blind non-date.

"Uh… I could have sworn.." he trailed of for a second. "never mind. But loose schedule, that's good." She heard a cheer coming from behind the steering wheel. "We like our schedules loose, like our woman." Finn, of course. Who else. "Clever." Came Colin's dry comment.

"My god, it's early." The Aussie moaned

* * *

><p>Friday 6.15 PM<p>

"We're here." Finn yelled from behind the wheel, and Rory couldn't help but feel relieved. She didn't know how long she'd been in the car, but she'd counted at least 20 songs on the radio before she got bored. She'd also spent the entire however-long drive trying _not_ to touch Logan too much. It wreaked havoc on her shoulders and back, but didn't do anything about those pesky butterflies in her stomach. _Dean, Dean, Dean, Dean_ she mentally chanted her _boyfriend's_ name. She felt a hand on her arm, and was gently pulled out of the car. She wondered if it would be totally weird if she started to stretch a little. "This mountain air has revivified me!" Finn yelled, and she heard footsteps running away from them. The hand on her arm dropped, and she heard Logan tell the others, "Make sure he doesn't run of a cliff or something. I'm not spending another Friday night in the hospital."

The two other sighed and Rory assumed this happened frequently, when Finn was concerned. "Stephanie, it's your turn. I got him out of the tree last time." Another sigh sounded, followed by a lighter set of running feet. "Finn! Slow down!" she yelled after him.

Rory snorted. If this thing was this funny even before it started, she wondered how it would be when they were all drunk. And, she assumed that wouldn't take all that long. "You okay?" Logan asked her while placing his hand on the small of her back. "I smell trees." She noted, trying her best to pinpoint their position. Were they even still in Connecticut? "Oh, nothing gets past you, does it." came his replay.

After a few moments of walking in silence, Rory spoke up. "So. The firing squad is just up ahead?" He chuckled. It seemed that unforeseen events didn't rattle her as much as he had imagined. At least it didn't diminish her wit. "Yup. But it looks like there's a line. Damn!" He pulled her to a stop and she turned to him. Or at least, in the direction she suspected him to be in. "Seriously Logan. Is the blindfold coming off, or am I Patty Hearst-ing it this whole trip?" she said, crossing her arms in front of her. "Don't get your panties in a twist Ace. It's coming off. In fact, it's coming off right now."

Rory blinked a few times, to get her eyes adjusted to the.. _candlelight?_ She turned around and saw she was surrounded by old-school white tents and lanterns and furniture. _What the…_ she thought. But the only sound she was able to make was, "Oh, my."

That made Logan chuckle again. _Rory Gilmore speechless, if I live and breathe_. Another thing he would be filing away in the Rory corner of his brain. "So, is this what you expected?" he asked her, his tone light and airy. "Nope. Not at all what I expected. This is fancy." She sounded a little awed. "Fancy? Wait, let me guess what you were thinking. Sleeping bag, flashlights, keg, three boxes of stale biscuits, a half-eaten bag of Oreo's, some Doritos and a bong." She looked at him, amusement shining in her deep blue eyes. _Did I notice how blue they were before?,_ he thought. "Yes, that may be exactly what I pictured. Except for the keg, somehow you guys seem more like whiskey and vodka people."

He snorted. She got that right. "Well, you can apologize later." They stopped in front of one of the tents. "This is yours.", he said, while opening it. "Mine?", she looks around the tent with a scrutinizing look. "Not much closet space, but the view is decent.", he pointed over his shoulder in the direction of another tent. Presumably his, by the way he winked at her.

Rory moves inside and sits on the edge of the bed. Yes, an actual _bed_. _I guess these people really know how to go camping_., she thought, while bouncing up and down a little. "It's cozy." And that might be the understatement of the year. "Well, festivities start in about half an hour. Don't be late.", he says before he turns around and leaves.

Rory looks around for a moment, trying to take everything in. Before she knows it, half an hour has passed, and she makes her way out of the tent. In all the excitement, she forgets to make an important phone call.

* * *

><p>Friday 7.00 PM<p>

When she walks out of the tent, she sees everybody dressed in turn of the century clothing. Looking down at her own black jeans and sweater, she feels a little like the odd duck out. But whatever. She isn't here to become one of the group, she's here to write a story. And for that she needs to remain objective. A couple of LDB-ers wander in front of her tent, and she pulls out her notebook. "Hey. I'm Rory Gilmore. Uhm, this is quite a soiree. Are all the Brigade gatherings this elaborate?" she asks them, but all she gets in return are blank stares. She shrugs and moves on to another group of people standing about.

As she moves closer to the guys, she catches a tiny bit of their conversation. And it really doesn't make any sense to her, at all. "Hello, everybody.", she says tentatively. The 4 guys turn to her, with a look of horror on their faces. "My God!" one of them says, while turning back to the others. "Shocking.", another pipes up. They all shake their head. "Silly girl. Not adjusting to this proud point of ours." They all make agreeing sounds. "Sad, this diminishing vision."

Rory's baffled. What the hell are they talking about. And why the hell are they talking like _that_? "Excuse me?", she says more than a little confused. They stare at her again. "Full count is six, I say?" one of them says. "Six, no doubt. Ay, again I concur." She watches both guys carefully. She thinks she recognizes one of them from her into to philosophy class, but he hasn't shown up all that much so she isn't really sure. "Point in fact, daft lady, to catch on would prompt our congratulations."

Congratulations if she caught on? What in the world? "It's a game?" she asks hesitantly. It could only be a game, right? Because if they actually spoke like that in _real_ life… "At which you totally fail.", one of them admonished her.

"You want for instruction?" Not really, no. She's not here to really participate after all. But she would like some more information from those guys. After all, she had a story to write. "Apparently.", she replayed. "Said gap 'twixt 'd' and 'f' shall not slip from lips in any word this group allows." Rory frowns. "Said gap 'twixt 'd' and 'f'," oh please, who talked like that anyways. "So, you're not using the letter 'e'." she states flatly. "Right… I'll catch up with you guys later. Have fun.", she said, and muttered after "if that's what you're doing."

She walks away from the weirdo's and head over to the food. She's proud of herself for trying to work a little first, before caving to the deliciousness that stands before her. Even though she's never actually been camping before, she realizes that the spread before her isn't typical. Darn, she really was looking forward to trying 'smores.

She saw another person wander over to the beverage table and went over there. "Hi, Stephanie." She said, hoping the other girl wouldn't look at her like she was a leper, for talking with 'e's. "Oh good. You're using 'e's." she sounded relieved. And Rory could kind off see why, since her name included several of those pesky 'e's. Stephanie picked up a bottle of champagne and proceeded to fill her glass. "No champagne?", she asked Rory.

Rory shook her head. She was here on business, not pleasure. Although getting drunk might help with the tight lips around here. "I'll have a little, later." Rory decided Stephanie looked sufficiently buzzed, so she tried to get some answers out of her. "So, is Logan the head of the group?", she asked, her tone belying her interest in the matter. Stephanie snorted. "Pssh, he wished. No, there's no 'head' of the group, Rory. We're an anarchy collective, we don't recognize leaders per se. Plus, it's a secret.", she hiccupped. "I shouldn't be talking to you."

Rory leaned on the table. "Oh, because the way that people act around him, Logan kind of seems…" Stephanie interrupted her, "Cute?" Rory shook her head vehemently. She did not think Logan was cute. A stuck-up, reckless ass, yes. But cute? Noo, definitely not cute. Or , you know, maybe a little.

"No." she said to Stephanie. The blonde girl tilted her head to the side and gave Rory a once over. "No?" she questioned, in a not to convinced tone. Rory shuffled a little under the scrutiny. "Well, yes, but…." Again Stephanie cut her off, sounding a little less drunk, and a little more hostile. "There's a line you know. To get to him."

Rory backed up a step. "Oh no, I'm not looking to get in a line. I'm just a reporter." Stephanie got a faraway look in her eyes, and it seemed like de booze was kicking back in. "Bet you're a good reporter. And a very good girl. You look like a good girl." She paused and her eyes grew wide. "Oh dear, I'm talking to you. I shouldn't be talking to you. I have to go kill myself now… "she turned around abruptly and yelled back "excuse me."

Rory just shakes her head and takes out her notebook again. _ Oh man, this is gold_, she thinks to herself.

* * *

><p>Friday 8.55 PM<p>

She's sitting on a rock a little away from the party, that is getting louder every passing minute. She could swear she hears the letter 'e' on multiple occasions. _Guess it's a little hard to keep it up while intoxicated, _she thinks. She's squinting to read her notes, because silly her forgot a lantern to light her surroundings.

She hears movement to her right, and when she looks up she sees a dark figure with a lantern walking towards her. "How goes it, pariah?" Logan asks her, as he moves to sit beside her on the rock. "Word was, a bear dragged you off. I'm glad to see it didn't, otherwise I would have had to come up with a mighty good explanation to your mom. Somehow I think 'ran away with a chipmunk' might not be believable." She laughs quietly at that. "No bear, no chipmunk. I just wanted a quiet place to collect my thoughts." She cocks her head to the side as the noise from the party grows louder still. "Well, quiet_er_ anyways."

Logan shovels some food into his mouth and chews before answering. "You found it… sort of." He pauses a moment before continuing. "Sorry you're not getting much from the group. It took me a little arm-twisting to get them to agree to let you come here." Rory shrugs and steals a tator-tot from his plate. "I don't need their cooperation. I've already filled two notebooks without it. Half of one without using the letter 'e'." now it's her turn to pause. She looks at him, bats her eyelashes a little, for dramatic effect (she's a Gilmore after all) "But I could use yours."

_Oh god, did she just bat her eyelashes? Is she trying to kill me?_, he thought, but he didn't quite know where the thought came from. Usually he's less than impressed by girls using those kinds of tricks on him. He's usually only interested in what's underneath their clothes. He's a little lost for words, because even in the dim lighting her eyes seem so blue, he feels like he could drown in them. He clears his throat a little. "You want my input? Way to much salt on this." He points down at his plate. Rory ignores his comment, and continues. "I mean, this party and the setting is pretty incredible, but it's just a preamble to the big stunt tomorrow, right?"

It's like they're having 2 different conversations, because the only answer Logan gives her is, "It's Finn. He's Australian, they like salt." _Avoidance? Okay, I can work with that._, she thinks, and takes a deep breath. She's found that people get uncomfortable when she babbles. They always reveal more when they are uncomfortable. Or drunk. "How do you pay for this? Are there dues, or do you chip in? Is there alumni sponsoring it? How is it organized? And what is the stunt for tomorrow? Is it just as big, or bigger? And do people know that you're here? Park rangers, the landowner? Where are we? Are we even still in Connecticut?" , she stops to take a breath, "And your answer can not include the word salt."

Logan looks a little baffled. But not uncomfortable. If at all, maybe a little at awe. And even amused. Rory doesn't quite know what to make of that. "Whoa there Ace, save some breath okay? I already told you I'm not in the mood for a Friday night hospital visit. Let's talk about those conditions of you being here." Rory nods "Okay. Sure, bring them on."

"First off, no pictures." And he picks up her camera, and puts it in his pocket. "Hey, that's my camera! And I thought the first condition was that I had to agree without knowing the conditions?" Logan flashes her a wide grin. "My mistake. But you'll get your camera back at the end of the trip. _Third, _no names."

She huffs. No names, duh! She's a reporter, they always protect the source. "I'm not exactly being introduced to anybody, so… continue." He bumps her shoulder with his. She looks so adorable when she's in reporter mode. _Wait, what_? _Adorable?_ Logan shakes his head a little, picking up where he left off. "Fourth, no physical descriptions of any of us. There are certain.. authority figures up and down Connecticut trying to nab us for things we may or may not have been responsible for in the past." He waggles is eyebrows at her and whispers, "naughty things."

What else is new. A secret society filled with rich college students, that do _naughty _things? Try every single one in the book. But she nods anyway, "Keep you anonymous. I think that can be arranged." Rory really sucks at physical descriptions anyways. "Fifth, no identification of our location." She looks up at him. "Well duh, I don't even know where the hell we are. I believe there are many a places in the Eastern US that feature these green things with the brown poles. Somebody once even told me that people used to call them 'trees', go figure."

Logan let out a laugh at that. "So definitely not a forest girl then, are you. So the final and most important condition of all. You must agree not to interfere with the integrity of the event." She raised her eyebrow at that. How could she agree if she didn't even know what the event was. For all she know they would be boiling her in a giant kettle over an open fire later. But that seemed a little unlikely, especially given the more than a little intoxicated state they were in. Rory figured she could outrun the drunks, even if she was a lousy runner.

"I don't know what the event is, so I'm not really sure how I could interfere. But okay, I agree." Before Logan could replay to that, the camp breaks out in song. Rory smiled. "It's pretty.", she sighed. Logan looked at her, eyebrow up. "It's drunk.", he countered.

"Well, it sounds pretty anyway. I like it." Rory crossed her arms defiantly and scowled. Logan threw his arms up in surrender. "Hey, I didn't say I didn't like it. I was just stating facts. I figured you'd appreciate that, being a reporter and all." He smirked at her.

Suddenly a female voice called for Logan, and he was gone. Even if she loath to admit it, she felt a little colder, now that he was gone.

* * *

><p>Saturday 3.45 AM<p>

She looks so peaceful, lying in the bed, that Logan just can't help but stare a little. Her one hand is curled up beside her face on the pillow, and the other is clutching her notebook as if her life depended on it. Like she feared somebody would steal it.

He'd been watching her all evening, even if she didn't notice it. He'd seen her frustration when nobody wanted to talk to her. And even if she told herself that it didn't matter, that she wasn't there to make friends, he could tell it bothered her anyway. Part of the sarcasm and snark was definitely a way of protecting herself. He just couldn't really figure out against what.

He walks over to the bed, and tucks a stand of hair behind her hear. She moves a little, but thankfully doesn't wake up. Ducking down, he places the big, white box underneath her bed, for her to find in the morning. As he thinks back to the pale blue dress he picked, he can't help but imagine her in it. He's certain she's going to look beautiful, and that's a thought that scares him.

* * *

><p>Saturday 10.00 AM<p>

"Hey Ace, time to get going. Rise and shine!" she hears his voice coming from the other side of the canvas, and pulls her sweater down in place. "I'll be right out," she yells back, sitting on the bed to tie her shoelaces.

When she walks out of her tent, she bumps into a very sharply dressed Logan. Black tux, black bow-tie and 100% hunky. "Wow. Another day, another vestiary surprise. Looking fancy there, Huntzberger." He ducks his head as a thank you, "You should start getting ready yourself, there Ace. Remember that condition about the integrity of the event…"

She looks down at her clothes. "But… I am ready… this is all I've got with me, because _somebody_" she directs a pointed look at him, "forgot to mention this was an _overnight_ thing. So unless you want me to fashion something out of pinecones, this is the best I can do." Logan shakes his head. "That," he says, while motioning his finger up and down, "is going to interfere with the integrity of the event. And, I'm positive I heard you agreeing not to do that. I wasn't that drunk."

Rory crosses her arms across her chest, feeling a little insecure about the way his finger (and eyes) moved along her body. "Well, I'm sorry to disappoint you buster, but the only thing I've got in my tent is a washbowl, a towel and a toothbrush.", she says defiantly. No sense in showing him that he makes her a little… . Logan taps his index finger against his chin. "Is that all you've got? If I were you, I'd look again Ace."

Rory turns back around to her tent, and glances around. _Nope, nothing more here since the last time I looked._ She thought to herself. But then she spotted something white, peeking out from underneath her bed. She drops to her knees to pick up the rather large white dress box. And when she opens it, she holds her breath.

* * *

><p>Saturday 10.10 AM<p>

As Rory walks out of the tent, his breath is caught in his throat. She looks absolutely stunning, like he figured she would. She would probably look good in a burlap sack. "I've got your event integrity right here, mister.", she states as she fluffs the dress a little. But the way her eyes shine, tell him she's not really upset about the wardrobe change. He cocks his head to the side and gives her a once over. He noticed that she got a little flustered when he did that, and he liked it when she blushed. "Yep," he nods, "I got a great eye for dress sizes." He holds out his hand for her, "C'mon ace, we go this way.

Moving through a forests whilst wearing a full on ball gown was not the easiest thing Rory has had to do in her life. Granted, it wasn't exactly the hardest thing either, but still. She kept tripping over loose twigs and branches, because she couldn't see them in front of her feet. "C'mon Ace, hurry. We're already late." Rory shot him a glare, and tried to gracefully step over a particularly big branch that was in the way. She failed (obviously).

"You try running in a crinoline, mister, and we'll see how many times you fall on your face. And late for what? The ritual sacrifice? I figured that couldn't start until the sacrificee was present." They arrived at the rest of the group, all dressed in similar dresses and tuxedo's, all listening to a guy wearing a top-hat and a monocle. "I do declare here gathered, one hundred and eighth assembly of the honorable Life and Death Brigade." They move to stand next to Finn, who hands them each a glass of champagne. "Well, I guess we can use 'e's again today.", she whispers into Logan's ear.

"Please, raise your glasses. In Omnia Paratus!" the monocle guy states, and all around her, glasses go up in the air, and everywhere the phrase "In Omnia Paratus" sounds. Suddenly Logan turns towards her, and puts his glass to her lips. He motions for her to do the same to him. Not the most practical way to drink champagne, but whatever.

Logan bends closer to her, "now, you might want to cover your ears." And before she can question as to _why_ exactly she would do that, the monocle guy slams a brass gong, leaving her with ringing ears. She's still standing there, shaking her head to get out the ringing, when everybody else rushes the field. "And to think some groups just go bowling.", Logan says to her, grinning, before he to rushes of.

While she moves around the field, Rory takes notes of all the weird things these people seem to do with their free time, and their money. On one side of the field, a sort of polo game is being played, with girls in carts, carried by the guys. A little bit further some guys are playing real live clay shooting, with paintball pellets of course. She moves towards the gathered onlookers. "Is this safe," she asks, more to herself than her surroundings. She gets an answer anyway, in the form of several voices. "No." Followed with some giggles and some 'hear-hear's.

She spots Logan and Finn standing a at a different mat, playing the same game. Finn looks like he's getting bored by the shooting, and stomps of towards the table, in order to jump himself. Leaving Logan standing there with the gun. "Pull", Logan requests, and Finn jumps off the table and onto the mat, yelling, "In Omnia Paratus!". Logan hits him square in the chest. "Nice shot.", Rory complements him. "So, is this your big stunt?", she says, while motioning around with her arms to encompass the entire field.

Logan turns to her, a questioning look on his face. "Big stunt?", he asks her. Rory nods. "According to my research, you guys always do one big thing at your gatherings. So is this it?" Logan shoots Finn again. "Does it look like it?" he asks her, while he gets in position for another shot. Rory frowns and looks around. While it is a pretty weird sight, all these 'games', it doesn't really look like the kind of thing she's read about while doing research. "I'm guessing, no." He smiles at her, that wobbling-knees, dimples smile. "Well than Ace, you've answered your own question. You'll know it when you see it."

Before Rory can ask something more, 2 guys walk by, carrying Finn on a stretcher. He turns towards them, looking a little pathetic. "I missed the mat.", he informs them. Logan raises an eyebrow, "Again?", he asks his tone a little worried. Not really for his friend's health, because it was Finn, and he always bounces back. But because he'd spent at least 1 night at the hospital, for the last 5 gatherings, and he was getting a little tired of it. "I'll be fine," the Aussie assured him. "Don't worry about me. In Omnia!"

Logan laughs at his friend's antics and puts down the gun. "C'mon Ace, we've got to move on over in that direction." He points towards a spot in the field that holds a huge scaffolding. A small crowd is standing near it, wearing umbrella's. When he sees her eyes go wide with surprise, he chuckles. "I hope you're thinking up superlatives, because somehow I don't think Doyle would appreciate the word 'humongous' being printed in his beloved Daily News." It takes a while before Rory finds her voice again, and when she does speak there is a little hint of fear in her tone. "What are they going to do?", she asks, although she's pretty sure she already knows the answer to that.

Logan just look at her. "What do you think they're going to do?" Rory's eyes grow even wider (if that's even possible.) "They're not going to jump, are they? That's like 7 stories. They'll die." Now there's more than a _little_ fear in her voice.

Logan grabs her shoulder and looks her in the eyes. "We're all going to die someday, Ace. So why not do it on your own terms?" Rory looks towards the people with the umbrella's who've all reached the top of the scaffolding. "But _those_ four are going to today." Logan looks up at his fellow Brigadiers. "Six," he corrects Rory.

Her eyes fly back to the top of the contraption. _One, two, three, four…_ "I only see four. Do you need your glasses or something?" He walks over to the base of the tower and picks up 2 umbrella's. "I'm going up," he says. She rolls her eyes. "Of course you are." Logan continues like she never said anything, "And Finn was supposed to do it, but few of us figured he'd actually make it this far. So… there's an extra space." He waggles his eyebrows and holds out the second umbrella.

Rory's still staring up, towards the idiots who are going to jump. She only vaguely hears him say something, but then an umbrella enters her field of vision. She looks at it, and then at Logan. "No!", she says, and backs up a few steps. Logan moves forward and grabs her wrist. "And we're not going to die. No one in the Life and Death Brigade has ever died. Except for the old ones, but that's beside the point."

She shakes her head. "I'm not going to jump. How do you even know it's safe?", she looks at the rigging dubiously. Logan points out a guy standing a little ways away from them. "That guy, is Seth, he's our genius, the one who came up with this. He did several test drops, and not one of the potatoes turned into mash." Rory looked up at Logan in disbelief. "Potatoes? You tested this thing with _potatoes_?"

Logan shrugs. "Well, sure Ace. We can't very well test with people! That'd be dangerous." He was mocking her. He was seriously mocking her right now. "Thanks, but no thanks. I'm here as a journalist. An observer. Journalists do not participate." Logan cocked an eyebrow. "Since when?", he asks incredulously. Rory threw her hands up. "Since _forever_!"

Logan crossed his arms over his chest, before continuing. "So, George Plimpton never participated? Because I honestly believe his best stuff put him in the middle of the action. Fighting Sugar Ray Robinson, quarterbacking for the Lions, skating for the Bruins." Rory grumbled. "Fine, so _he_ participated."

"Bill Buford lived with soccer hooligans. Ernie Pyle was so deep in action in World War II that he got killed by a Japanese sniper. Not that I think you should go that far. Richard Hottelet worked for the U.P in a Nazi prison for four months. Same with Hunter Thompson and the Hell's Angels. Are you seeing my point here, Ace?" He leveled her with a look of such superiority; she had to suppress the urge to kick him again.

"Fine, you're right. Those guys participated. I got it, but I…" Logan's look softened. "You're scared.", he statedw. "Well… yeah!" _Obviously_, she thought. What person in his right mind would jump off of that thing, strapped to some rigging that was only tested by _potatoes_. She may be a little naïve, but she was certainly not a moron. "And a little fear stops the greats?", he asked her.

"Well, it's stopping _this_ great.", she said defiantly. This back and forth was getting ridiculous. She was not jumping. Period. The end. "C'mon Ace. You look like you need a little adventure." Her eyebrows shot up questioningly. "You just… seem a little shelteredRory sputtered at that. "Why? Because I haven't spent time in a Nazi prison, been stomped on by hooligans and beat up by Hell's Angels?" Logan took her hands in his. "C'mon Ace. It'll be fun, a thrill. Something stupid, something bad for you. Just something different. Isn't that the point of being young? It's your choice Ace. But people can live a hundred years without really living for a minute." He stopped to take a breath. "You climb up there with me, it's one less minute you haven't lived."

She was convinced. Logan could tell by the way her eyes shone. He grinned at her. "Let's go," she said, while moving towards the ladder. "But I must warn you, I'm not a fan of ladders." Logan laughed at that. "Don't worry Ace, they scare the crap out of me, too."

Rory made sure she didn't step to close to the edge when she got up there. She wasn't really afraid of heights, but standing this high without any security was really scary. "High," she told him, "we are very high." He looked over the edge, towards the ground, and then back at her. "I've been higher," he shrugged. Rory gave him a once over. "I meant distance from the ground." He grinned. "That , too."

When they were all strapped safely (or so she hoped) she picked up her umbrella. Logan put out his hand for her to take. "You trust me?" he asked, excitement in his tone. She looked at him. _Yeah, I don't know why, but I do._ It was a strange feeling for Rory. Trust. There were really only two other people she trusted completely, and that were her mother and Lane.

She looked at Logan. _Really_ looked at him. Took in his tousled blonde hair, his very nicely fitting tux and his warm chocolate brown eyes. She nodded. "You jump, I jump, Jack." He grinned at the reference. They locked hands and stepped to the front, together with the rest of the jumpers. The crowd from below screamed "In Omnia Paratus," and Rory and Logan stepped off of the ledge.

"You did good, Ace." Logan said, still holding her hand. She tried to stop her hands from shaking. "Once in a lifetime experience!" she told him, also trying to stop her heart from beating out of her chest. Whether it was from the jump, or his holding her hand, she wasn't really sure. He looked at her and winked. "Only if you want it to be."

* * *

><p>Sunday 2.05 AM<p>

After the scaffolding jump, there had been something Rory hadn't expected. Her _initiation_. Whether it was just to keep her from divulging to much information about the Brigade, or because she'd actually been on the shortlist, Rory didn't know. But jumping that thing, had made the others look at her a little differently. Except for Finn, who had been whining from the moment she got down, about her stealing his place. Rory had actually heard him question if she had moved the mat, when they were playing people-shooting.

They had ended the evening with copious amounts of champagne. Suffice to say; that by the time the stretch limo reached Bramford Hall, they were completely off their ass wasted. "They did _not _do that, did they?" she asked Stephanie, while Logan, Colin and Finn were regaling a story about the first time they had gone on an LDB event. "I'm not sure," Stephanie slurred, "I wasn't initiated yet at that time. But they've been telling it pretty consistently ever since, even while drunk." Rory giggled. "Alright guys, I think this is my stop, I'll catch you later. I've got a story to write." She moved to open the door, to get out. "I'll walk you to your door, Ace. Somebody's got to make sure you don't trip and decide the floor in front of your dorm is as good a place as any to sleep."

She shrugged. Sure, he could walk her to her door. That would be nice. He got out before her, and reached in to help her out. "Alright Ace, let's go." He kept a hold of her hand, and they started walking. A sudden voice made her stop cold, her buzz immediately fading. "Where the hell have you been? I've been trying to call you since Friday. And who is _this_ clown."

Rory paled and turned. "Dean?"


	3. Buttface Miscreant

**I would like to take a minute first, to answer some of the comments on the past two chapters..  
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**Thank you all for commenting, it really makes my day!**

**For the guest who commented on the dialogue: I know i'm using a lot from the show, but that is sort of the point of this story. I'm sorry if you don't like that, but I hope the rest of the writing is different enough to keep you reading.**

**Hope you like the new chapter, i've messed some with the chronological order of the episodes, to have it work out better for this story. R&R please :)**

**Disclaimer: still the same as chapter one... don't own, just taking them for a spin!**

* * *

><p><em>Rory paled and turned. "Dean?" <em>

Rory could see Dean was angry. Really angry. But, between the buzz that was now fading, and the headache that was slowly taking its place; she couldn't figure out why he was angry. He knew she was away for a story, after all... _I forgot to call_…, she gasped. "Oh my god. I forgot to call you Friday. I was so busy with the article, I completely forgot. Dean, I'm so sorry." Rory dropped Logan's hand, which she didn't realize she was still holding; and ran over to Dean. Who took two steps back from her.

"Sure, Rory. An article. So, what kind of article requires you to get out of your mind drunk?" Dean snaps at her, and Rory flinches. "Hey man, Don't be like this. She was just out with some friends." Logan said, trying to defuse the situation. But to be honest, he was a little surprised. She hadn't said a single word about a boyfriend all weekend. And he could have sworn they'd had a few moments. A little back and forth flirting. Maybe he'd read the signs all wrong.

Dean turns a murderous look towards Logan. "I wouldn't direct any sort of comment towards me, if I were you." Logan holds his hands up in surrender. "Hey man, I'm just trying to explain. And if you'd seen the enormous pile of notebooks she filled during just these past 1,5 days, you'd have known she has been working her ass off for this story." Dean takes a step towards Logan, hands curled into fists. "Hey man.", he said, the words dripping with sarcasm, "I don't need you to tell me anything about _my_ girlfriend."

He turns towards Rory again. Anger fading and resolvement and a little sadness taking its place. "What are we doing, Rory? Why am I even here? I don't belong here," he says waving his arms around, seemingly to encompass all of Yale. "At least, not anymore. And I'm tired of trying to. You're not the same as you used to be. Hell, I'm not the same… And, it just isn't working Rory." He walks past her. "You look very nice. Bye, Rory."

As Dean starts his car and drives off, Rory's tears start falling. Logan walks up to her and puts his arm around her shoulder. He looks over towards the limo, and he can see Steph's, Colin's and Finn's heads leaning out the windows. "Finn, is there any party around campus that you know off? 'Cause we've got some serious bucking up to do here." While he leads Rory back to the limo, he whispers in her ear, "You'll be okay." Rory just puts her head on his shoulder, letting the tears fall freely.

"I've got just the place we're looking for. And I'll reenact passion of the Christ," Finn yells from inside the car. Logan squeezes Rory' shoulder. "Nothing ever seems as bad after Finn's passion of the Christ. Except Finn's passion of the Christ."

* * *

><p>Sunday 5.00 AM<p>

It turned out, there's always a party at Yale on a Saturday night. Or as it were, a Sunday morning. They'd gotten themselves a booth at the Pub, and proceeded to drink some more. Rory got home around 4.30 AM, and had dropped in front of the porcelain altar, puking her guts out. _Serves me right_, she thought. She'd broken Dean's heart. _Again. _She never intended for that to happen, but if she was really honest with herself, it was a relief. She'd felt disconnected from Dean. A foul mixture of shame, disgust and sadness curled in her stomach. She'd broken up a _marriage_. Even if she didn't think people should get married at such a young age, it was not her place to judge it. In her defense, she'd wanted Dean to do _better._ Be _more_. He was smart, he should have gotten the chance to go to college. But, what she wanted for him didn't really matter. He wasn't _hers_, and it was never her place to meddle.

"Oh god." She whined, before sticking her head back into the bowl.

She finally made it to her bed around 6.00 AM, hoping to be able to sleep the day away. And get rid of this horrible hang-over. _I'm never drinking again, _she said to herself. Knowing fully well that was a promise she wouldn't be able to keep. Specially with her new 'membership' of Yale's most secret of clubs. They drink more than anybody Rory had ever met before, and that included her drunk aunt Milly (from her father's side) who she met one time, but had never seen her without a glass of gin that entire night.

* * *

><p>Sunday 11.30 AM<p>

She woke to the sound of something very annoying. Something very annoying, but familiar. _Phone_, she thought groggily. Reaching blindly for her phone, it took her a while before she found it. She answered on the last ring.

"This better be good" she grumbled through the speaker.

"Wow, you sound like a regular ray of sunshine there. It that any way to speak to the woman who gave you life?" Lorelai said, her tone very amused.

"Well, it is when you've only gotten to bed at 6, and your being woken up at.. What time is it?"

"Eleven-thirty-ish. And, why were you out until 6? You texted me last night at 11 saying the 'secret weekend' was over and that you were all heading home." Lorelai asked, amusement making way to concern.

"Well, we got home around 2, the first time…"

"The _first_ time? What do you mean, the _first_ time?"

"See, when I got home, Dean was here." Rory paused.

"Uhu, continue."

"I forgot to cancel our date on Friday. I was a little pre-occupied with the story. But he was here, and he was mad. And then he saw me getting out of the car, a little tipsy, with Logan. And he.. he broke up with me."

"Oh, sweets. I'm sorry."

"Yeah well, you were right. It never should have happened. So it's my own damn fault. But anyway, the rest of the guys I was in the car with, they wanted to cheer me up. So we went to a party, and I got home around 4.30. I think I spend about an hour or so, praying to the porcelain gods."

"Oh honey.. mommy's so proud. Your very first hang-over. I'm just really happy you waited until you were almost 20 before you decided that drinking away your sorrows was a good idea."

"Yeah well, that makes one of us. And it didn't work, still sorrowful but now with the added bonus of headache and nausea. Whoopie for me."

"At least your sarcasm isn't suffering. I'll text you my foolproof hang-over cure. It looks disgusting, but it'll help in no time."

"Kay. Bye mom."

Rory's head hit the pillow, and she was out again. She didn't wake up until 3.30.

* * *

><p>Wednesday 5.25 PM<p>

She'd been successful in avoiding any of the Brigadiers who had been witnesses to her break-up for the better part of 3 days. But when she entered the hallway to her dorm, she could see her luck had run out. "Logan… What are you doing here?" she asked the blonde boy sitting next to her door. He smirked up at her. "Well Ace, I haven't seen you in three days. If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were avoiding me. I'm sure you were very busy these past few days, so I figured I'd come and check up on you."

He stood to face her, and handed her a white envelope. "And to give you this. It's the invitation to a prospection party." Rory took the envelope and raised an eyebrow. "A prospection party? What does that even mean?" She said, while opening her dorm room door. She motioned for him to follow her in. "Good question Ace. See, normally we don't initiate so early on in the year. But, we made an exception for you. After all, you're a legacy. But usually, we throw a party to scout the potential new blood. After the party, we vote on who can join us this year. It's a big deal for us." Rory looked at the invite, and back at Logan.

"Okay. So, what exactly am I supposed to do at this party?" she asked him. "Well Ace, one usually has fun, at a party, so that would be the primary objective. And, secondly, you just watch the possible new members. So that when it's time to vote, you have motivation for your vote."

"I have a vote? And, how will I know who are new members and who are not? I've only been to one event, and I hardly think I've met all the Brigadiers." She crossed her arms over her chest and lifted her chin a little. _She's so cute when she does that_, he thought. He smirked at her. "Well, you're a part of us now. You did the whole initiation thing. You do remember the scaffolding, don't you? Every current member has voting rights. And you will recognize them by their bracelets. Red will be for new blood, green is for junior members and black is for senior members." He dug in his pocket and pulled out a green bracelet. "This one's yours. Attendance is obligated, Ace." He winked at her and left her dorm. Rory dropped into the sofa and stared at the bracelet. _Oh boy_, she thought.

* * *

><p>Thursday 10.00 PM<p>

"Parties on a Thursday, what moron came up with that idea." Rory grumbles, while standing in front of the entrance to the Pub. "Hey Ace, don't knock it, 'till you tried it." A voice came from behind her, making her jump. He walked passed her and opened the door. "You coming?" he asked her. She made her way into the bar and scanned the room. It was packed to capacity, with little to no room to maneuver around. Rory already felt like she was being suffocated. That's the down side, among other things, to being a 5 foot something girl. Everybody was taller than she was.

"I'm going to get a drink, you want one?" Logan's mouth was so close to her ear, she could feel his breath on her cheek. She suppressed the shivers it gave her and nodded. Pointing to a relatively open corner, she said "I'm going over there, more air." He nodded and headed towards the bar. Rory had just found herself a good spot in the open area, when a guy walked up to her. A red bracelet guy.

"Well, hello there. What's a gorgeous girl like you doing standing in the corner like this. Shouldn't you be out there, shaking and grooving." He said, pointing his thumb over his shoulder towards the dance floor. "I'm Jordan, and I'm an excellent dancer, if I do say so myself." Rory tried to keep her face from showing her distrust of the guy. "Oh well, that's convenient. But I'm not much of a dancer." She answered him, hugging her arms a little closer to her chest. "I bet I can show you some moves." He said, then paused to take her in. "How old are you?" he asked her. Rory tried to back up a step, but was hindered by the wall. _That's what you get for hiding in the corner_, she thought to herself. "Me? Um, I'm almost twenty." Her tone was a little tentative. "All right. Good. Just making sure everything's legal." He said leering, and waggled his eyebrows. Rory gulped. This was not a situation she enjoyed being in. And this guy was definitely getting her veto.

"So, you need a drink?" Rory shook her head. "No, I'm good." He looked her up and down again. "Why, you get a little crazy when you drink?" he replayed, again waggling his eyebrows and leaning in even closer. "Yeah, that's it." Rory deadpanned, trying to get around the guy. "I'd like to see that…" he started to say, but was interrupted by another voice. "Ace, there you are. I've been looking everywhere for you." Logan pushed past Jordan and put his arm around Rory, leaning in to kiss her cheek. She relaxed her shoulders, never happier to see Logan Huntzberger than right at that second. "I'm late, I'm sorry. Don't be mad." He said to her, putting a drink in her hand. He turned towards the guy and stuck out his hand. "Logan Huntzberger. Thanks for keeping my girl busy, otherwise she would've noticed exactly how late I am and that could have been very, very bad. "

Jordan looked between Rory and Logan, a frown forming between his eyes. "Excuse me? You're with her?" Logan nodded. "Going on a year and a half." Jordan's frown deepened. Then he shrugged and turned around. Logan didn't move his arm though, and Rory found that she liked the comfort of it. "Thanks, you're a life saver." He lifted his shoulders and took a sip of his glass. "No worries, that's what friends are for. Besides, you looked a little cornered. Rory nodded. "I was. Literally. I'm telling you one thing though, that guy… so not getting my vote." Logan laughed at that. "Well, that makes two of us, Ace. C'mon, let's go sit with the rest of the guys. I believe Finn is currently trying to convince a redhead he's the crown prince of England." Rory cocked an eyebrow. "So, he's pretending to be prince Charles?" Logan laughed at that, and at the mental image of Finn with a severely receding hair-line.

* * *

><p>Monday 3.15 PM<p>

Rory loved the library. Really, any library would do, but the one's at Yale… So many books, so much history. She walked along the rows, her hand gliding over the backs of the books. This really was the place she felt most at ease. Well, the library and Stars Hollow, but only one of those was within walking distance of her dorm room. She felt safe at the library. There were rules and etiquette dictating how one should behave there. Unlike the other places she'd been to recently. Not that she didn't like her new friends, because she did. But they were so different from her. And all the drinking. She did like it that she was being pushed out of her comfort zone. Normally she wasn't really the kegger, frat-party, chug until you drop kind of girl; and that was okay, most of the time. But, if you aspire to have a fully rounded college experience, you better be willing to step up to the plate. Or the bar, as the case may be.

She picked up one of the books – Pushkin – and smelled it. The scent so comforting and _the same_, in a world that was now constantly changing. "Excuse me. Did I just see you sniff a book?" a voice came from behind her. She turned around and saw a familiar face walking her way. "Oh, hey Logan. So what if I did? I bet that's not even the weirdest thing _you_ have sniffed." She was being a little passive aggressive, but he was interrupting her alone time after all. "Touché Ace. So, what are you up to? I mean besides…" he waved his hand towards her and the book. Rory shrugged. "I'm just, trying to find a place to decompress, I guess. It's just so nice and _quiet_ here." Her emphasis on the word quiet didn't escape Logan's notice. He got the picture, she was looking for some alone time. Time away from the hustling and bustling of the Yale campus.

"Got it, Ace. So are you coming by the Pub tonight? It's Mojito Monday, and doesn't everybody love Mojito's?" He grinned at her and she rolled her eyes. "I'm more of a Peña Colada girl myself. I also enjoy getting caught in the rain. " she deadpanned. Logan laughed. "Maybe. I dunno. I've got a lot of work, and I'm still recovering from the last time we all hung out together." He looked her up and down. She looked as good as ever, if you asked him. Even better maybe, ever since he'd used the world _girlfriend_ for her, even if it was only to scare off some dude at a bar. But he was Logan Huntzberger. He didn't do _girlfriends_. So what was it about this girl?...

"Oh c'mon Ace. You don't have to drink you know. They have excellent latte's there as well. It'll be fun. You can bring a book to sniff. We'll be there at 8-ish." He said before turning around and leaving her to her books.

* * *

><p>Monday 3.30 PM<p>

Logan feels.. _off_, somehow. He just passed a group of very good-looking freshman, and he just walked by them. Not even noticing them, really. The only thing he could think about, the only girl he could see, was _her_. Rory Gilmore. Her sky blue eyes haunted him, all day, every day. He caught himself walking passed her favorite coffee kart, just in the hopes of getting a glimpse of her. He found himself checking his phone every few minutes, in the hopes she'd sent him a message. It really was getting ridiculous. Logan Huntzberger does not _fall in love_. He has dates, not girlfriends. He has one night stands, not monogamous relationships. And he doesn't want that. He's happy with his life, he doesn't need a change. He doesn't need _to_ change. And still…

When he got to the apartment he shared with Colin and Finn, he'd made up his mind. A stunt, to make him feel better. Have a little fun with her, maybe make her a little angry. She was definitely cute when she was angry. And maybe, if she was really angry, he would get over this ridiculous crush. Right? Right!

"Colin! Finn! We need to talk. I need your help!" he yelled when he got in the door. The door slammed shut and Logan dropped himself in the nearest chair, put his feet up upon the coffee table and rubbed his eyes. "You rang m'lord." Colin said, coming from his room, looking a little rumpled. He sat down on the couch facing Logan. "Logan, mate. Do you have any idea what time it is? I'll tell you what time it is. Too. Damn. Early." Finn shuffled from his room, looking even worse than Colin, but that's really not saying much. Finn does not 'moderate', with anything.

"Stop whining, we've got some scheming to do." That got both of his roommates' attention. They loved for pranks. Hell, if they could have survived on pranks alone, they would. "Who are we pranking, and what are we doing?" Finn said eagerly. Colin leaned a little more forward in his chair as well. "Well… Since she's a new member of the LDB, I figured it was high time we pulled a fast one on Rory. You're not a real member unless you've been pranked at least once." It wasn't the complete truth, but he banked on Finn and Colin not to really care about the why anyway.

Colin raised an eyebrow. "You want to prank Reporter Girl?" he questioned. Colin actually liked Rory. Hell, last Friday he'd asked her help with a paper, and she hadn't even blinked. She just helped him without question. "Okay, fine. What do you have in mind." He said, meanwhile making his own plan.

* * *

><p>Monday 7.00 PM<p>

"Colin? What are you doing here?" Rory asked, leaning on the doorframe. Of all the LDB members, she didn't really expect Colin to show up at her door. "Yeah. I'm sorry to bother you, Rory, but I've got some information I think you would like. Can I come in?" Rory stepped aside and let him pass her by. He went over to the couch and motioned to it, as if to ask if he could sit down. She nodded and followed him over, dropping down on the opposite end.

"Shoot." She said, curiosity clear in her tone. He took a deep breath before starting. "Okay, first of all, I want to make something clear. Logan is my boy, my best friend since forever. So me coming here, it's a big deal." Rory nodded, confusion in her eyes. This conversation was taking a weird twist. "That being said, Logan loves his pranks. And the last one he pulled on me, is still haunting me today. So, I want payback. And I've got just the way to do it."

* * *

><p>Tuesday 1.20 PM<p>

Rory was sitting in a classroom, about 20 other students around her. The professor, a guest lecturer in her business course had just started to explain his syllabus for the 4 classes he was going to teach. Rory wasn't really into business, but the lecturer spoke to her, and she'd signed up. Suddenly the door opened, and Colin appeared.

"Excuse me. I'm sorry. I'm sorry." He pleaded, while looking across the seats, his eyes begging. When he spotted Rory, he ran up the steps towards her desk. "Young man! What do you think you're doing? I'm right in the middle of class!" the professor said, a very disgruntled look on his face.

"I know, I'm sorry. I just…" he moves closer to Rory's desk. "Rory, you can't just walk out like that. Not after everything we've been through. You just left, and I was still sleeping. I mean, what is that all about?" Colin took Rory's hand in his and dropped to his knees. He was just about to say something else, but was interrupted by the professor. "Okay mister. You need to do this later, I'm trying to teach a class." Colin just shrugged "I can't do this later. Rory, I love you. I love you, dammit. How many times do I have to tell you? God! Just talk to me!" He dropped down onto his knees and looked Rory in the eyes.

"Okay son, you have to get out. Right now. Out!" the professor yelled, right at the moment Logan entered. "Colin! What are you doing man?!" the said to his friend. Colin got back up and turned towards Logan, putting himself between Rory and Logan. "Get the hell out of here, Logan!" he said icily. Logan shook his head. "She's with me now, man. I told you that. Let it go!" Colin moves away from Rory, and down a few steps. "I will not _let it go_." He said, crossing his arms across his chest. "Everything was fine between us, until you came along!" Logan snorted. "Everything was not _fine_, Colin. And she doesn't love you. So don't blame me because you couldn't keep her" He looked up at Rory, who was praying desperately the ground would just swallow her up. "Rory, tell him you don't love him!"

Colin lunged at Logan. "I swear, I'm going to kill you!" he screamed. Logan jumped out of the way, and landed a blow in Colin's stomach. "Oh, I'd love to see you try."

Suddenly the door opens again, and in walks Finn, dressed as an old school English policeman. He blows the whistle hanging from his neck and grabs the fighting boys by their collars. "All right. That's enough! Break it up you two." He looks over at Rory. "Rory Gilmore, you should be ashamed of yourself, toying with these boys like this! They used to have pride! They used to have dignity! They used to have balls." He pulls both boys towards the door. "Give them back their balls, Gilmore!"

The three guys walk out of the classroom, only to appear a second later to take a bow. Rory, who came down the steps as soon as they left, flings herself into Logan's arms. "Oh Logan! I thought you would never say those things. You're right. I don't love Colin, I love you." And then Rory does something not even she expected. She put both hands on either side of Logan's face, and pulled him in for a kiss. When the kiss was over, a little too soon for both their liking, she turned to her professor. "Grandpa, did you hear that? I got myself a Huntzberger! Maybe we should call Grandma, so she can start planning the wedding."

Richard Gilmore, guest lecturer for the next few weeks, smiled. "Oh Rory, wonderful. I've always thought you two would make an excellent pair. I'll get your grandmother on the phone right away." Logan was still speechless. Rory had kissed him, in public. And told him she loved him. In front of her grandfather. _Oh god_ the thought. What the hell is going on here? He caught Rory and her grandfather smile at him, then turn around and take a bow towards the rest of the class. They all erupted in cheers and applause, before filing out of the room.

Rory moved to stand in front of Logan. "That'll teach you to try and pull a fast one on a Gilmore. And don't you forget it, mister." She said while poking him in the chest. She and her grandfather walked out, all the while cheerfully laughing. _What the hell just happened?_ Logan wondered to himself.

* * *

><p>Tuesday 6.45 PM<p>

Rory is eating her dinner in the cafeteria when she spots Logan walking her way. "Hi, Ace." He says, while moving to sit across from her. Rory scowls at him, but keeps eating. "How are you doing?" he looks at her, trying to find out her mood. Was she mad? _Why_ was she mad? She'd tricked him too. A little too good, if you ask him. And that kiss… Still no answer from Rory. "Ace, I get the sense that you're mad at me." His eyebrow shoot up in question. "Nope," she replays, popping her 'p'. "I'm not mad. I've just got nothing to day to you."

"C'mon Ace. I was just a joke. One that completely backfired, I might add." He says, and leans back in his chair. "Well, if it would have been a real class, I would have been mortified. I hate being put on the spot like that. Thankfully, you've got friends who don't mind a little payback, or I would have been humiliated in front of my entire classroom." Rory hissed at him, frown firmly in place. It's a good thing Colin had shared Logan's plan with her, in order to get payback. It also hadn't taken much to convince her grandfather to play a part in it. As for her 'fellow classmates', let's just say that Colin wasn't the only LDB-er who still had some unfinished business with the Huntzberger heir. "I really have no words for what you are." She looked him over a little and shook her head. "Oh no, wait. I think I've found some. Jerk, ass, arrogant, inconsiderate, mindless, frat-boy, lowlife, buttface miscreant!" Rory ticked off all the words on her hands.

"Buttface miscreant?" Logan says incredulously. "I'm sorry, did you just say 'buttface miscreant'? Rory sighed. "I just don't understand why you would do such a thing. I thought that we were becoming _friends_." She says, her voice sounding a little defeated. Not that she expected Logan to stay serious for longer than 2 minutes, but still.

"I'm sorry, ace. I didn't mean to upset you. And we are, we are friends. It really was just a joke, a bad one, but a joke." He wanted her to be a little mad at him, not sad. How did his plan go so badly so fast. All he wanted… well, to be honest, he wasn't quite sure what it was that he wanted exactly. But he knew for sure, this wasn't it.

Rory picked up her tray and moved her chair backwards. "Yeah, well… ha ha ha." She says, before turning around an leaving.

This was not what he had wanted, at all…


End file.
